Infinite Blade
by InfiniteUniverse10
Summary: Blade is a half-vampire walking the Earth, hunting down vampires to avenge his mother's death. Follow The Daywalker and Whistler, as they battle bloodsuckers and other supernatural beings in the Infinite Universe. Written by ReadingTrance.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own most of the characters used in this story. Blade and most other main characters belong to Disney and Marvel.**

**Cover: Blade (age 13), from behind, looking down an alley at Arthur Whistler fighting off three vampires.**

**Infinite Blade  
by ReadingTrance**

**Chapter 1: The Birthing**

**December 2, 1936, London, England**

Tara Brooks laid in the bed at the brothel, screaming at the top of her lungs. She was currently in labor, which the surrounding prostitutes hoped they would never have to personally experience. However, they supported her. They always did. They had to all stick together.

"Where's the abbess with the crow?" Margaret asked.

Margaret was questioning where the brothel keeper was with the doctor. She was due back approximately five minutes prior to Margaret's question, which worried the women of the brothel. Tara appeared to be in immense pain and needed a doctor's expertise.

"Don't know. How are you doing Tara?" Ruth asked her, fiddling with the cross hanging from her neck.

Tara was still screaming as she gave Ruth a death glare. "Not. Well!"

"Don't worry, Tara. Blade is going to make it." Margaret added.

Tara smiled through the pain at her baby's name. She loved the originality it brought to the world. The other women of the brothel found it strange, but Tara didn't care. It was either that or, if it was a girl, Fern. However, Tara Brooks had always wanted a boy. She didn't want to have to raise a daughter to only end up where she was now.

Shortly after Margaret made Tara smile, the women heard footsteps rushing up the stairs.

"We're here!" The abbess, Madame Elizabeth Vanity, returned with a doctor following behind her.

The doctor sported a white goatee with short matching hair. Tara noticed his eyes were open really wide, like he was nervous or anxiously awaiting something. He placed his bag of doctor toys on the table next to the bed.

Elizabeth tried to calm down Tara. "This is Doctor Deacon Frost. He's going to help you through this."

"I think the baby's comin'!" Margaret shouted.

"Are you going to help her or just stand there?" Ruth asked Dr. Frost.

"I'm." Deacon Frost paused as he bowed his head. "I'm sorry."

When he looked back up at Tara, he showed his bloodshot eyes and newly acquired fangs.

The women of the brothel that could still see the doctor's face screamed, while the other half were questioning what he was talking about.

Deacon Frost lunged forward at Tara Brooks, latching onto her neck with his fangs. The vampire began to suck blood out of the woman as the other prostitutes tried to pull him off. He simply pushed several of them aside as he finished his dinner.

"Get off of her, monster!" Ruth shouted as she hit the man over the head with an old-fashioned broom.

The broom snapped in half upon impact, leaving Ruth holding a sharp wood stick.

"I said off!" She shouted again as she shoved the stick through his shoulder.

Deacon immediately turned around and growled as he pushed Ruth up against the wall, accidentally placing his hand on the silver cross hanging from her neck.

The vampire shrieked as his hand began to burn and immediately clenched at his wound. Deacon Frost fled from the scene, seeing no use in remaining any longer.

Heather, one of the prostitutes that got thrown across the room, stood on her feet trying to not hyperventilate as she held her injured arm.

"What just happened?" She asked.

No one said anything for several seconds.

"She's dead..." Margaret said softly.

"But the baby." Madame Vanity cradled the newborn in her arms. "He seems okay. It's a miracle."

Heather rejoined the group. "I can't believe what just happened."

"We've been through worse." Madame Vanity calmly said as she rocked the baby back and forth.

"What are we going to do with him?" Margaret asked.

Madame Vanity looked into the baby's eyes. "I will raise him."

Margaret nodded and added. "We all will."

Madame Vanity looked up at her and nodded in approval. There were several moments of silence. Ruth was looking down at her cross, which was now covered in burned skin. She asked a question that was on everyone's mind.

"What was that monster?"

**December, 10, 1949, London, England**

"A vampire?"

Blade, a new member of the teenager population, stared at the pile of ashes in the barren alleyway.

The middle-aged man he was with looked right at him. "Yes, a vampire."

"And you just killed it with a cane?"

"Not just any ol' cane." He flashed a smile as he admired his weapon of choice. "A silver cane."

"This is crazy."

"Indeed it is. You, my boy, showed quite a bit of strength in that battle. I appreciate you jumping to my rescue like that."

Blade was on his way home from school when he looked down an alleyway to find the man fighting off three creatures. He instinctively helped the stranger with his natural strength and speed.

Still unknown to Blade at the time, he was part vampire from his strange birth. Doctor Frost's bite on Tara Brooks inadvertently passed on certain enzymes into Blade. This granted him extraordinary strength and speed, but Blade also inherited several vampire weaknesses. Luckily for him, he wouldn't experience those until he was a little bit older.

During the fight, the man showed some expert combat skill, but still found himself struggling against three fully grown vampires.

"Can you teach me how to fight?" Blade asked excitedly.

"Well, I suppose I could. You seem to have great potential."

"You have to come meet my mom and tell her what I did. She'll never believe me."

The man laughed. "Sure. Let's go meet your mom."

The two of them began to walk, Blade taking the lead. The brothel wasn't too far from where their current location.

"So, what's your name, kid?"

"It's Blade."

"Blade? That's an interesting name." The man smiled again.

"Yeah, I get that a lot. What's yours?"

"Arthur Whistler."

That was the day Blade met the man that would become his mentor.

**The Brothel**

Blade opened the door to the brothel, Arthur slowly following behind him.

"Welcome home, Blade." Madame Vanity came down the stairs. "Who's this?"

"Mom, meet Arthur Whistler. I saved his life today." Blade bragged.

Madame Vanity was confused. "You what?"

"He sure did." Arthur said with a smile.

"Well, we're going to have to discuss this then. I'm Elizabeth Vanity. It's a pleasure to meet you." She stuck her open hand out in Arthur's direction.

"Nice to meet you ma'am." Arthur took her hand and kissed the top of it.

A shy smile crossed the woman's face.

"Give us some time to talk, Blade." Madame Vanity told her son.

"Sure." Blade said as he scurried up the stairs past his mother figure.

Elizabeth led Arthur into the kitchen area, where Ruth was conversing with a potential costumer.

"Ruth." Madame Vanity nodded at her, signaling for her to leave.

"Let's go, handsome." Ruth took the man by the hand, leading him out of the room.

Madame Vanity joked. "Not sure how she still does it at her age."

"Some women will always have their touch." Arthur seemed to not mind the brothel.

Arthur took a seat at the table, while Madame Vanity grabbed a glass of wine.

"Let's discuss the events of today. What happened?"

"I was fighting off some, well, creatures in an alleyway. I was outnumbered three to one and Blade came to my rescue. I'm lucky he was there."

Elizabeth circled around the table and took a seat across from Arthur.

"Creatures?" She casually sipped at her wine.

"Yeah, I'm not sure you'd believe me if I told you about them, ma'am."

She smiled as she sipped at her wine again. "I'm going to assume you mean vampires. I'm just going based off of the silver cane you use."

Arthur was shocked she knew. However, Madame Vanity had learned all about vampires since the night of Tara Brooks's death.

"Well, yeah. How'd you know?"

She wasn't going to be so quick to tell Arthur, an apparent vampire hunter, that her supposed son partly belonged to the group of creatures he liked to kill.

"I've had my run-ins with them, you could say. I've just always tried to keep the brothel and Blade safe. Those are my priorities."

"Well, it would seem Blade doesn't need much protecting. He's very strong for a young boy. He actually asked me to give him some combat training. I think he would actually make a great vampire hunter."

Madame Vanity pondered the idea. The boy was going to get into trouble. It seemed to be in his nature. And if Blade's destiny was to hunt down these monsters, then she wasn't one to get in the way. Ever since Blade was born, she knew he'd be different. She truly believed that this occurrence was an act of fate, not coincidence.

"Well, Mr. Whistler, I think I can allow that. In fact, I have a proposal for you."

Arthur adjusted his position in his seat. "And what would that be?"

"Live here. Help us protect this brothel and my son from some of the horrible men that walk through that front door. Train my son to be able to protect himself from anyone, or anything that threatens him. Do all of that and I will supply you with anything you need. And, if you truly believe he is meant for it, I will allow you to train Blade to hunt down these demons."

"You drive a hard bargain, Ms. Vanity." Arthur smiled sarcastically. "I accept your offer. I sincerely want to train your son. I see infinite potential in him and I think, hopefully, that one day, he can make this world a better place. Blade may become the greatest hunter that ever lived."

"Well, here we go." Madame Vanity took a deep breath before drinking the last of her wine.

**April 7, 1970, London, England**

The clinging of blades sounded throughout the house as Abraham Henry Whistler, the eighteen-year old son of Elizabeth Vanity and Arthur Whistler, fenced with Blade. Blade, now thirty-four, didn't look a day older than his supposed half-brother, due to his slower aging process he acquired in his late teens.

Whistler attacked high, as Blade parried and struck at his opponent's midsection, connecting to end the session.

"Damn!" Whistler shouted. "I'll get you one of these times, Blade."

Both of the men removed their fencing masks, tossing them aside.

"Keep saying that." Blade showed his perfect teeth as he grinned in victory.

"Blade, come here." Arthur shouted from the next room over.

Blade respectively nodded at Whistler as he left to go into the next room.

"Yeah?"

"I've got a new formula to try." The aged Arthur said, holding a syringe in his hand.

Blade grimaced. "The last couple haven't gone over so well."

"I have faith in this one. Come on, give it a try."

"Fine." Blade took several steps closer to his mentor.

Arthur Whistler had been trying for several years to develop an antidote to cure Blade's hunger for human blood. Unsuccessful so far, he had hoped this one would finally work. Blade had been able to mostly find alternatives for his hunger, but it was an extremely tough option for him to continue living that way. It was especially bad when he slipped, having his hunger push him to needing live human blood. Usually when Blade reached his breaking point, the members of the brothel donated some of their blood to help him maintain his sanity.

Arthur stuck the needle into Blade's neck, slowly injecting him with the liquid inside the syringe.

"Let me know how you feel in an hour."

Blade rubbed his neck. "Sure."

He turned around and left the room, heading into the kitchen. His mother was sitting at the table, eating some soup for lunch. Blade looked at his mom, reminiscing on how much she meant to him. She had always been there for him, no matter what the situation.

At this point in Blade's life, Madame Vanity has shared the truth with him. Well, most of it at least.

"Blade." She greeted him. "Take a seat."

"Are you doing okay? You look tired." Blade sat as he took a seat across from her.

"Getting old will do that to you." She smiled. "Luckily for you, you won't ever have this problem."

Blade laughed, which was a rare occasion.

Madame Vanity took a spoonful of her soup before speaking again. "I have something to share with you, Blade."

Blade cocked an eyebrow in interest. "What is it?"

"You know what happened to your real mother. And you know why you are what you are." She looked right into his eyes.

"Yeah, I do." Blade stated, still waiting to hear new information.

"Well, I never told you that I know who killed your mother and gave you these abilities."

Blade's eyes widened. "You know who killed my mother? Why haven't you already told me and Whistler? We can go hunt down this monster."

"Because you weren't ready. Deacon Frost, the man that killed your mother, is a very powerful vampire. It would be impossible to find him at this point."

"I'll find him one day. Our paths will cross."

"You may. And when you do, I hope you avenge your mother. I just don't want you aimlessly dedicating your life to finding this vampire. You can do more good for the world than that. Blade, what you and Whistler do for the world is very important. Never lose track of that."

Blade stood up, looking directly at his mom. She was right. Hunting vampires, at least the truly evil ones, was an important duty that he had accepted. Frost's time would come. Blade knew it would.

"I won't."

Blade then walked away.

**Notes: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of Infinite Blade. I tried to stay true to his basic origin story, while mixing it up by adding the Whistler family. Reviews are always welcomed.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Cover: Blade in his bedroom with his hands on Rachel's arms, holding her close as he kisses her.**

**Chapter 2: Whistle While You Work**

**July 19, 1982, Boston, Massachusetts**

"Where is he?" Blade screamed at the female vampire he held in front of him.

Blade was holding the pale vampire's collar with one hand as he pushed her up against the wall. The scene was an empty nightclub, shortly after it had closed down. There were some ashes on the floor, indicating that Blade had already ashed several vampires.

Ashing was a term that Whistler and Blade had created some time ago for whenever they had exterminated a vampire.

"Where is Deacon Frost?" Blade continued his interrogation of the intimidated vampire, lightly pressing the tip of his silver sword against its throat.

The vampire stuttered in fear as her neck briefly sizzled from the silver. "I-I don't know."

Blade tightened his grip on the creature, flashing his fangs. "That is not the answer I'm looking for."

The Daywalker's improved hearing alerted him to several pairs of footsteps headed in his direction.

"Don't move." Blade grinned at his foe before tossing her to the ground.

As the front door to the nightclub opened, Blade removed a pistol from the holster on his leg. In walked three male vampires, as Whistler had previously informed Blade.

"Well, if it isn't the Daywalker. Welcome to Delirium again!" The lead vampire said with a grin, referring to the name of the nightclub.

The vampire community had long ago nicknamed Blade as the Daywalker, since he was the only known vampire with immunity to the sunlight.

Blade recognized this particular vampire. He was the owner of the nightclub, and Blade had previously visited Delirium and had some encounters with him.

"Xarus." The Daywalker plainly responded, still pointing his pistol at the trio of undead.

"I would like to kindly ask you to leave my nightclub. You need to stop coming here, Blade. It's bad for business if my customers think the Daywalker is a regular customer."

Blade again flashed his fangs as he smirked. "If you tell me where Frost is, then I won't have to come here anymore."

"Frost? I haven't seen him in months. You're wasting your time here, Blade. Don't make me count to three."

Blade didn't move a muscle.

"Seriously? Fine, fine." Xarus complained. "We can do this the hard way." He took a breath. "One."

Blade kept his pistol pointed right at Xarus.

"Two."

The Daywalker began to pull back on the trigger.

"Three!" Xarus shouted as he sped off, appearing only as a blur.

Blade pulled the trigger, but Xarus had dodged the silver bullet.

The other two vampire goons charged at Blade. After swiftly holstering his pistol, he returned to wielding his sword. The two vampires attacked him, but Blade nimbly dodged their attempted strikes. After ducking under a vampire claw, he ashed the first vampire by sticking the sword through his chest.

As he did this, the second one struck Blade from behind. The Daywalker stumbled forward as he recovered, before spinning back around to face his foe.

"Surely the Daywalker can kill one measly vampire." Xarus teased from the sidelines.

Blade quickly drew his pistol and fired a shot in the direction of Xarus's voice. Unfortunately, the vampire was no longer there.

The vampire henchman then tried to attack Blade while he was distracted, but was quickly ashed by the Daywalker's sword.

"That leaves just us, Xarus." Blade looked around, holding his sword in one hand and pistol in the other.

"Yes, it does. However, today is not the day for one of us to die. I have too many important meetings to attend. Perhaps we can have our little showdown another time. Until then, tread carefully Daywalker. You're upsetting the vampire community."

Blade looked around for the source of Xarus's voice, but couldn't find the nightclub owner. He cautiously lowered his weapons as he glanced back to where he left the female vampire he was interrogating. Not to his surprise, she had fled during the battle.

With nothing left for him, Blade exited the nightclub. In front of the nightclub, the black van that Blade and Whistler used was parked. The side door on the van opened, revealing Whistler standing over a bonded vampire.

Whistler proudly smiled.

"Good work, Whistler. I'm impressed." Blade said as he approached, staring at the woman.

"I thought you might be. I saw several vampires enter the nightclub. How'd that go?"

Blade looked up at him and smirked. "It was simple enough. You could've always come in and given me a hand with Xarus, though."

"I'm sorry, but I was a bit preoccupied fixing your mistake." Whistler jokingly argued.

"We don't need her anyways. She doesn't know anything about Frost." Blade climbed into the van.

"You should've said something sooner." Whistler said disappointedly.

Whistler grabbed his father's cane, which was leaned up against one of the walls, and mercilessly stuck it through the vampire, turning her to ash.

"You, my friend," Whistler looked down at the pile of ashes, "are in charge of cleaning that up."

"Why me? You ashed her."

"And you failed to mention she was useless. If you vacuum her up, I'll consider us even."

"Whatever. Let's just go home." Blade climbed into the passenger seat. "It's been a long day."

Whistler made his way into the driver's seat. "Isn't every day a long day?"

Blade didn't reply. They both knew the answer to that question.

**December 12, 1983, New York, New York**

Blade sat in a chair, staring outside the window as snow slowly glided to the ground. He had one of the injections created by Whistler's father in his hand. The Daywalker slowly lifted it up and injected in through his neck. Then, he tossed the syringe into the nearby garbage bin.

"How's the search going?" A woman asked Blade.

Blade, Whistler and the woman were all sitting in their new base of operations. It was a one-story house that belonged to the woman.

Blade shook his head in pain, reacting to the injection. "It's going."

He had no recent luck finding Deacon Frost. He had been travelling all over the northeast in search of his target, but no vampire held the answers he was looking for.

"Rachael, did you have any luck with you mission?" Whistler asked.

"In fact, I did. I'm headed back to Romania in about a week. I've heard Dracula is in Transylvania."

The Daywalker looked over at her. "You are?"

"Yes, I am. This is very important to me, you know that. I hope you find Frost, but I have my own goals that I need to accomplish."

Rachel Van Helsing. A woman Blade had developed feelings for. Well, as close as Blade could come to actually feeling.

"Blade, can I talk to you for a second?" Whistler asked as he stood up.

The Daywalker quietly groaned as he nodded.

Both of them walked into the next room.

"Blade," Whistler began, "Let's go with her. Let's fight the big fight."

"No. We need to find Frost." Blade plainly responded.

"Do you not remember what Madame Vanity said to you? We can't spend our lives searching for Frost. We need to fight all vampires. Dracula is a pretty important target if you ask me."

Blade's voice rose. "Do you think I don't know that?!" He slammed his fist on a table, breaking it in half.

Whistler stared at him, waiting for him to calm down.

"I need to find Frost." Blade looked back up at his friend. "Every day he is out there, it eats away at me. Rachel can handle herself, Whistler. At least she knows where her target is." The Daywalker finished his sentence as he walked away.

Blade returned to his bedroom. Rachel, who had heard the table snap in half, followed behind him.

"Blade, what's wrong?" She asked as she entered the room.

He didn't reply as he removed his coat, hanging it on the coat rack.

"Is it because I'm leaving?"

Blade remained silent as he removed his gun, sliding it underneath his pillow.

"Hey, talk to me, Blade." She put her hands on his shoulders.

He took his sunglasses off and threw them on the desk and then removed his sword and holster, leaning them against the wall by his bed.

"Blade..." She said quietly.

The Daywalker removed his cross and put it down next to his sunglasses. He then turned around and looked at her.

"Will you please talk to me?"

He gently put one of his hands on each of her arms, leaned forward and gave her a soft kiss on the lips. Blade then nodded towards the door, suggesting she leave as he climbed into bed. Rachel watched him, sadness crossing over her face.

She slowly began to walk away and then turned around. "Goodnight."

Rachel closed the door behind her, leaving Blade in the darkness.

On the other side of the door, she muttered to herself as a tear rolled down her face. "And goodbye."

**November 27, 1984, Boston, Massachusetts**

Blade and Whistler returned to Massachusetts midway through 1984. A recent tip suggested that Frost had returned to the state. Unfortunately, Blade had left a bad impression on the vampire community and his return was less than favorable.

"Blade, you are hereby banished from the Massachusetts vampire community."

A tall man in a suit stood and black suit, looking like a classic mobster, stood in front of Blade on the other side of a desk. Blade was seated, surrounded by a mob of vampires in the dimly lit room.

Blade stared at his prosecutor. "I was never a part of it anyways."

The man nodded. "We know you never wanted to be. We were hoping that you would eventually realize where you belong, but we've grown to believe that will never happen. From now on, if you are seen in this community, you will be considered a threat."

The Daywalker stood up, his trench coat reaching the floor. He picked up his sunglasses from the table and flipped them open, sliding them onto his face.

Blade stared at the man through his shades. "Michael, this decision is going to hurt you more than it hurts me."

The man rolled his eyes. "What do you want me to do, Blade? We can't let you going around, killing every vampire you feel like. You've done enough damage. Leave. Don't come back. Find another community to torture."

"Deacon Frost is here. I will find him. He can only hide for so long."

"Go. Now. Before I change my mind about letting you live."

Blade smirked. With his answer, Michael confirmed that Deacon Frost was still there. The Daywalker slowly turned around and exited the room. He was getting closer to finding Frost.

The scene was a giant warehouse that was housing a hoard of vampires. The sun was beginning to rise, so the vampire community was beginning to flee indoors. As Blade walked outside, several vampires scurried past him into the warehouse.

"Better hurry. You wouldn't want to implode." Blade angrily shouted at them as they ran past him.

He had a long way to walk back to his base. The vampires had jumped and kidnapped him a couple hours earlier. He was weaponless and had no mode of transportation. So, he indeed made the long walk all the way back to his base where Whistler was waiting for him.

Blade's comrade was sitting at his desk putting together more injections for the Daywalker, whistling as he worked.

"Have a long night?" Whistler asked.

"No longer than usual."

"Want to fill me in?"

The Daywalker gave a simple response. "Vampires want me dead and I need new weapons."

His ally laughed. "Nothing new, I suppose."

Blade glanced over Whistler's shoulder, watching him work.

"Rachel wrote another letter." Whistler stopped his work and turned around to look at his friend.

"Write back." Blade replied, quickly walking away.

"Blade, this is important. You should read it. You can't just ignore her every time she writes. She's writing for you, not me."

"I have every right to ignore her."

"No. You don't. You're a stubborn son of a bitch that doesn't easily lend forgiveness. This is one of those situations where you should. Friends like Rachel don't come along often. And I know you two have feelings for each other."

"I don't feel for anyone."

Whistler stood up. "Not even me, Blade? You don't care about me?"

The Daywalker turned and looked at him with a blank facial expression.

"I know you have feelings somewhere, deep down inside of you."

"Write back to her if you want." Blade walked away.

This was nothing new for Whistler to put up with. He knew who Blade was and who he was dealing with. The trust was there, but communication wasn't always their strong suit.

Whistler turned around and sat back at his chair. He opened the desk drawer and removed the letter, flipping it open in front of him.

_Blade,_

_I'm sorry for leaving that night. I would do absolutely anything to go back and change it. Unfortunately, I cannot. I wish we spent more time discussing our feelings. Discussing us._

_I found Dracula and had a recent encounter with him. It didn't go in my favor. Let's just say that this may be the last time I'm writing to you. I've been bitten, Blade. I don't want you to worry about me, though. You need to focus on your task. We can't have you launching a suicide mission here. I hope you have found or will soon find Deacon Frost._

_If you need help, seek out my brother Abraham Van Helsing. Just mention my name and he will help you with whatever you need. He is currently staying in London._

_Whistler, please take care of Blade. Please make sure he doesn't chase after me. I'm going to become a different person once I turn._

_I love you, Blade._

_Take care,_

_Rachel_

Whistler held back tears as he folded the bloody letter back into place, sticking it back into the drawer. He couldn't handle telling Blade. He wasn't sure Blade would've been able to handle it either. Maybe this was for the best.


End file.
